Angel Among Us
by Overwoocher
Summary: Angela "Mercy" Ziegler was having a quiet night until her Overwatch coworkers and friends bring in a man so damaged she fears that even a miracle won't save him. Will be a multichapter fic, and I'd love reviews with ideas and suggestions. Will likely go up in rating. Pairing TBD. Cross posted from AO3, where I am TheNerdPrincess.
1. Chapter 1

Doctor Angela Ziegler was having a quiet night. Sipping tea from a mug painted by her young niece, flipping through various files, that sort of thing.

 _Was_.

"Angela, come in." Her radio crackled, Jack's strong voice catching her attention. Setting mug and papers down, she swept up the radio from her desk.

"I am here, is everything alright?"

Today was their day off, Jack and Ana had gone out to show Mccree the sights in Hanamura. Something about her Commander's tone told the doctor that raman and arcades wasn't all their night had involved.

Accompanied with more static, Ana's accented voice came over the radio.

"We found a young man. He's extremely injured." Her clipped words conveyed more than she could have said. Not much shook the seasoned veteran, but this…this must be different.

Angela was already on her feet, lab coat flapping behind her as she strode through the pristine halls. Other Overwatch members hurried out of her way. When Doctor Ziegler is on the move she is saving lives, and no one wants to interfere. A nurse fell in behind her, jogging every few strides to keep up.

"I'm prepping a surgery and ICU room now. What can you tell me of his injuries?"

"It...seems as if third degree burns are covering his left side, arm, and most of his face. He also is covered in several long, deep gashes. Dozens of smaller lacerations. Several deep puncture wounds. It appears as if he fell from a great height and landed on his feet, his ankles are both shattered...I can see bone. I wouldn't put broken ribs past him either."

Angela felt herself pale slightly. If not already, the man must now be on the brink of death with blood loss. A few words dispatched her nurse tail to gather as much O negative blood as possible. Operating room assistance scurried back and forth-the doctor's orders had preceded her, her equipment was laid out ready.

Thanking them with silent nods, the young woman turned to face the door her patient would likely come through.

"How close are you?" she asked tersely, consciously slowing her breathing and focusing herself on saving this life.

Her question was answered as the double doors down the hall burst open. Jack and Ana were heading the group, with the patient between them. A pale, quiet Jesse followed, and behind him was a small group of staff members gawking at the patient. Both men were shirtless, and Ana had lost her scarf and light jacket. Angela thought she recognized the fabrics, torn and bloodied, at different places on her patient's body. Torquients were placed over both legs and the right arm, but crimson blood still ran in little rivulets onto the hospital wing's floor, leaving a dark trail.

Experienced doctor though she was, Angela's stomach turned. How could she possibly save this man?

Jack's steady eyes met hers as he and Ana maneuvered the man onto the operating table.

"You can do this, Angela."

Swallowing hard, she nodded. A deep breath steadied her, despite every sense being flooded with the slick, coppery smell of blood.

"Go get washed and dressed. There is no more you can do now," she ordered. Ana rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder and left the room with the others. As the operating doors closed, leaving a morbidly curious crowd outside, Angela turned to her patient.

Burned and destroyed muscles contracted before her eyes, stripped of skin, as he tried to open his eyes. She flew to his side, a soft hand barely touching his head.

"Do not worry," she said softly, smiling slightly, "I'll be watching over you."

Seemingly overwhelmed by pain, the man's eyelids fell shut again. Angela motioned to her assistants, and they began.

 _14 Hours Later…_

Stumbling slightly as she pushed the door to the dressing room open, Angela pulled off her hair covering and mask, both covered in rusty stains. Next to go was her operating gown, the third one of the night, changed after the other two had been soaked through. Shoe covers were next, and lastly she stripped off her gloves. One inside the other, to ensure cleanliness, she dropped them into the bin after the rest of her gear.

Swaying, Angela saw the room begin to spin around her, and would have collapsed if a pair of strong arms hadn't kept her from slamming into the ground.

"Easy there, angel. I've got you."

Sweeping her up, he strode through the halls, ignoring looks from the staff. In his arms, Angela allowed her eyes to close, head resting against Jack's chest. Distantly she noted that he smelled like gunpowder and lavender. It was a strange combination, she thought, but not bad.

The crowds around them grew thinner, and with a swipe of his keycard Jack unlocked Angela's room, stepping in and letting the door swing closed behind him. As he gently laid her on her bunk she stirred, looking up at him with bleary blue eyes.

"Where-"

"I brought you to your room," Jack said softly, sweeping a lock of hair behind her ear. "You've done well, Angela, but now you need to sleep."

She paused as if considering this, then her eyelids seemed to close of her own accord.

"Just...just a few hours. Then I need to check on my patient…."

"Alright doc," he smiled, standing and heading out of her room. "Sleep well."

She already was.


	2. Chapter 2

(Creative liberties taken in this chapter. As someone who has been hospitalized many times I know what it's like. However, I also know it would be pretty boring to read about, so I kinda...expedited Genji's recovery a little so he wasn't basically a silent ball of miserable for a week after waking up. Nanotechnology, amirite?)

When Angela awoke several hours later the sun, which had been weak with dawn when she passed out, was streaming in onto her aching body. Rolling over blearily, she rubbed her eyes and checked the clock: 2pm.

"Oh god!" she sat straight up, eyes wide. "I've slept far too long!"

She hurried out of her room and towards the ICU, expertly fixing her hair back into a ponytail and smoothing her wrinkled clothes. A few calls of "Good afternoon, Doctor Ziegler!" registered vaguely in the back of her mind, but she was focused wholly on her patient. A nurse in the ICU wordlessly pointed her in the right direction, and within a minute the young doctor was standing in front of the glass door.

Inside, the young man she had done her best to save slept. The slight rise and fall of his chest might as well have been the wings of a dragon for how amazed she was to see it.

"You're still alive," she whispered, fingertips resting on the cool glass. A weight left her shoulders. He had made it alive through her sleep, now she was here she would ensure he stayed that way.

Easing the door open, she slipped inside, retrieving his chart from the end of his bed, flipping through the nurse's observations and data. Then, curious as to who her miracle survivor was, she turned back to the front page.

Name: Genji Shimada

Age: 23

Nationality: Japanese

Family: Unknown

The rest of the chart pertained to medical information she already knew.

" _Shimada,"_ Angela thought, returning the chart to the end of the bed. She felt as if she knew the name, but she couldn't place her finger on how.

Stepping softly, Angela turned down the sheets to check Genji's bandages. With a combination of traditional medicine and her own nanotechnology she had salvaged what she could...which wasn't much.

As her light fingers peeled back a large gauze patch over his chest, Genji's breath stuttered. For the second time that day Angela watched him open his eyes. While she was sure they were normally a bright, sparkling brown, at the moment they were dark and hazy with the aftereffects of anesthesia.

Resting a cool hand on his burned and scarred skin, she smiled,

"Fear not. You're safe, in Overwatch's Intensive Care Unit. I'm your doctor, Angela Ziegler. But, if it's easier, you may call me Mercy." Angela said all this in heavily accented Japanese, to ensure he could understand, but then swapped to her own lightly accented English. "Can you understand me?"

He nodded slightly, even the small movement causing him to groan in pain.

"Water-"

"Right away," Angela interrupted, hoping to negate as much strain as possible. Opening the door, she called for a cup of ice chips and a spoon. After it was delivered she crossed to room to pull on a pair of gloves.

When she turned back around Genji was frowning hard in pain, picking at the bandages around his left hand.

"Ah, please," she stepped to his side. "You suffered no injuries to your spine, shockingly, would you like to sit up?"

A nod, and she slowly eased the bed into a more upright position.

"Why can't I feel my fingers?" he asked after she had fed him a few ice chips.

Angela sat down beside him, looking up slightly.

"Genji, you were severely injured when you came to me. Even with the technology and medicine available to me here...I'm afraid I was unable to save all of you."

His eyes hardened as he stared down the woman. "What do you mean?"

Even bandaged from head to toe, voice still cracking, he managed to be intimidating. Angela took a deep breath.

"I-Whatever happened to you nearly killed you. If we hadn't had so much O negative blood in store you would have died from blood loss alone. Your nerve damage and the, well, utter destruction of your epidermis over much of your body would have left you unable to walk or perhaps even move unless I did what I did."

"And what was that, Doctor Ziegler?" His tone was dark, nearly threatening, but underneath it all Angela could tell he was scared shitless.

Wordlessly she stepped forward and gently began unwrapping his arm. It was rough work, patched together by desperation and determination, but it was something she could improve upon, if he let her.

Genji's eyes widened slightly, and Angela could have sworn she saw the shimmer of tears as his mouth gaped, shocked.

"H-how much…?"

Stepping back to allow him space, the doctor searched her memories.

"All four limbs, sections of your shoulders and pelvis, most of the ribs on your left side, and almost all your internal organs from your liver down were unsalvageable."

Genji fell back into the pillows, ignoring the pain the movement caused, and just stared at the ceiling.

"I know this is a hard time," she said softly, returning to her seat, "but in order to help you more efficiently I have to know what happened to you, Genji."

"What happened?" He closed his eyes, thinking. "I…"

"If you can't remember that is perfectly fine."

"No, I almost-oh."

As he uttered the final syllable he instantly closed off, voice hardening.

"My brother. We fought. He's an archer and swordsman."

Angela wanted to ask about the strange burns she had found, but something told her not to.

"Leave."

As she had nothing more to ask at that moment, she complied. Once she stepped out of the room and softly closed the door behind her, a nurse appeared by her side.

"Blackwatch returned from their mission," she said.

"Ah, good," Angela replied, shaking her head to focus on the next task. "How are they?"

"Minor injuries throughout. We were able to treat them all…"

"But?"

"Agent Reyes won't let anyone near him. He's locked himself in his room, even though the rest of the team reported he was non-fatally shot."

Angela nodded, lips pursed. Gabriel Reyes, a talented leader, gunman, and her friend, had been passed over for command of Overwatch, despite being a founder. Ever since then he had been growing distant, and being put in charge of a subgroup of the organization only seemed to give him more of a reason to keep away from his friends.

"I'll take care of it," she assured the nurse. "Keep Mr. Shimada on pain suppressants and let me know if he asks any questions you can't answer."

The man nodded, and Angela turned her steps towards Gabriel's room.


	3. Chapter 3

_Knock knock knock_.

"Gabriel?"

Angela stood beside his door, calling out quietly in her sweet voice. She heard an annoyed grunt on the other side of the door, and optimistically decided to interpret it as an invitation.

As she stepped into the room she had to blink to adjust herself to the darkness.

"Close the damn door," Gabriel growled from his place on his bed. His doctor complied, shutting the door and navigating only through what little light made it past his drawn curtains.

"I heard you refused to be seen to in Med Bay," she said lightly, restraining her disapproval.

"I'm fine."

"You're shot. I'm pretty sure that's not fine, Gabriel."

"Oh, don't lecture me, doc."

Angela, who had been reaching out a hand for the shoulder he was nursing, withdrew slightly, flinching as he snapped at her.

"What's going on with you?" she asked softly, gently peeling his fingers off the bandage he had made himself.

The soldier only turned away, refusing to answer. She sighed, unable to see or do much when barely able to identify the problem area.

"I need to turn on the lights," she said, stepping over to the lightswitch.

"No!"

Frustrated, she whirled around, hands on her hips.

"Vaht is going on with you, Gabriel? I know you haven't been in the best of moods lately but zis…" her accent strengthened in her anger. "I only want to make sure you're alright, why won't you let me help!"

"I can deal with it myself, Ziegler!"

He stood, struggling slightly with the movement, left hand pressing his bandages to his opposite shoulder. As he did the spear of light from between his curtains fell on his face and Angela gasped, spinning to turn on the light.

"Fuck!"

Both hands flew to her mouth as Angela's eyes widened, taking in the man before her.

Dried blood had crusted over his black uniform, soaking into the fabric all the way down to his hip. His tight shirt was ripped in several places, revealing barely-scabbed gashes and cuts. Around one eye an impressive bruise was forming.

"Damn you, woman, I'm fine!"

Although not the tallest of men, he towered over her in that moment. Angela was having none of it.

 _Smack!_

Gabriel's head snapped to the side and he froze, shocked.

"You are an idiot, Gabriel Reyes!"

Angela's blue eyes burned with a righteous fury.

"When you come back to base you get cleared by medical. I don't care if you want to wait til I can do it or you want to be examined in your room, _you get cleared_. I am trying so hard to keep everyone here safe and healthy, and you aren't just a coworker Gabe, you are my friend. So don't treat me like someone you can threaten and scare away, because it won't happen. I'm not abandoning you, not now and not ever, even if you want me to. So sit your ass down and don't you DARE move until I'm back."

Clearly overwhelmed by the small Swiss woman's speech, Gabriel obediently stumbled back and half sat, half fell onto his bed. With a final glare to reinforce her point, Angela swept out of the room to gather supplies.

As she did so she bumped into a cowering nurse, who had clearly heard her raised voice.

"Ach, es tut mir leid," she shook her head, passing a hand over her eyes, then repeated herself in English. "I'm sorry."

"I-it's quite alright," the nurse replied, straightening and giving her a nervous smile. "Eh, Genji was asking for you."

Angela nodded, sending the man off with a small list of supplies to assemble for her, and swiftly made her way to Genji's room.

Entering, she ensured she had a small smile on and tried to distance herself from her argument with Gabriel for a moment.

"You were asking for me?"

The young man looked up.

"Ah, Doctor Ziegler. One of the nurses said I was scheduled for another surgery tomorrow morning."

"Yes. Last night's work, while it saved your life, is far from polished. It is not something I'd want you to live with."

He nodded, returning to gazing absentmindedly at the Overwatch poster on the wall. "Arigatoyo."

"Dōitashimashite," Angela replied, slipping out of the room. With her back turned, she didn't notice Genji's eyes studying her, confliction within them.

"Cogida de su desinfectante, loca puta."

Gabriel hissed in his native language as Angela disinfected one of the grazes on his stomach. She tutted, continuing to gently wipe away the dirt and grime.

"Maybe if you had let me inspect you as soon as you returned from your mission I wouldn't have to be so careful about thoroughly disinfecting you."

Gabriel glowered, but ceased his grumbling.

"How did this happen to you?" Angela asked, more gentle now as she started bandaging. For a moment she thought he wasn't going to answer, his strong jaw set in a hard line. But, after a beat of silence, he began talking.

"You know Blackwatch isn't the safest of organizations to be involved in."

"Neither is Overwatch," she said lightly. He gave her a look, and she bowed her head. "Apologies, please continue."

"We were handling some...unpleasant people, and right as we were leaving their reinforcements arrived. I sent most of the men back to base with the intel we had gathered. I and a few stayed back to hold off the enemy. They were…" he winced, " _very_ persistent."

Angela completed bandaging his wounds and rested a hand on his (extremely firm) stomach. She absolutely didn't notice the abs beneath her palm or the way they tensed slightly at her touch. His dark eyes met hers.

"Am I good to go, doc?"

She nodded, not moving. Gabriel's lips curved in a small smile.

"I'm sure you have places to be, Angela."

"Ah, yes."

She stood, gathering what supplies remained, and made to exit. At the doorway she paused.

"We won't have any more of this refusing medical treatment, will we?"

He shook his head. "As long as you treat me I'll be waiting in med bay after every mission."

Angela let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

"Bien! Rest up now, Gabriel."

"Aye aye, doc."

She nearly made it back to her office before Jack intercepted her.

"We need to talk."


	4. Chapter 4

Angela Ziegler had never been sent to the principal's office in school. Her young age and doctorate spoke to her hard work and good behavior. However, sitting in Jack Morrison's office, shifting uncomfortably while he looked over her designs for Genji with a frown, she almost felt like she was back in high school.

"Um, is there a problem?" she asked nervously. Jack's eyes met hers. They were blue, not unlike her own, but while hers were soft and warm his were ice and fire so hot it burned near white.

"Angela, we can't give a civilian these designs. You know that."

Her heart dropped.

"But-but they aren't that powerful. You and I both know that omnics are...less than welcome in many places. A man part cyborg? Genji is going to have to defend himself eventually. I won't leave him open to being hurt like that again."

Jack looked back down, flipping through her sketches and notes.

"Military-grade body armour. Underwater respirator, fire resistant coating, enhanced visor...it's too much, An."

He practically saw the young woman droop.

"Alright, I understand. I'll go...redesign it."

The disappointment in her voice nearly broke his heart. Jack knew that Angela's forays in science were difficult to test, and also knew that she wanted to combine as much as possible onto Genji-not only to protect him, but to get a finished product out into the world and start using it to save lives.

"That's always what her end goal is," he muttered under his breath after she left. "Angel on earth, that one."

One last time, he looked down at the final sketch she had submitted. It was a formidable suit, functional and, as she had noted, fully capable of being modified for combat.

"Combat…"

A lightbulb went on over Jack's head. He looked up, confused, to see his secretary poking her head through the door, hand on the lightswitch.

"Sorry!" she apologized pleasantly. "I just noticed the sun was going down, and I know how bad you are about turning your lights on. Gotta preserve that eyesight!"

He nodded distractedly.

"Thank you, Amélie."

She nodded. "You're welcome. Let me know if you need anything, oui?"

"I will."

He stood, shrugging on his coat.

"If anyone needs me, I'll be in the ICU."

Angela, worn out from running around for most of the day, and still feeling the aftereffects of the day before, was relieved when she made it back to her office and lab without a single emergency, desperate nurse, or headstrong agent requiring her attention.

"Ach, it is good to get off my feet für Moment aus," she declared, subconsciously slipping between her two best known languages as she collapsed into her chair and sending it rolling across room until she stopped at her desk. Absentmindedly picking up her mug of coffee, she took a sip.

"Scheiße!"

The doctor's face twisted in displeasure as she quickly swallowed the cold, near 24-hour-old liquid. Unwilling to stand up even for a fresh cup, she rolled over to the nearby sink to dump out the coffee. In doing so she caught sight of the message on the bottom, carefully printed in a child's hand.

"For Auntie Angela, love, Nicolette "

Angela caressed the lovingly drawn heart, smiling softly.

It had been Christmas two years ago when Nicolette had given Angela the mug, only a short while after Overwatch had started its big publicity push. The six year old had been positively ecstatic when she had discovered that _her_ aunt was the angel from the posters and films. She had told everyone from her teachers to the mailman, proud beyond belief. When a friend held a party at the local pottery studio, she designed the mug with a bright rendition of the wings of the Valkyrie suit.

Angela knew she wasn't supposed to have favourites but, well, Nicolette had always held a special place in her heart. The way her mossy green eyes lit up whenever she saw Angela on video call made the doctor miss home sharply. Plus, Nicole was her sister's only child, and when she passed away she was the only one with her laugh, the only one able to make Angela crack a smile during a very difficult time in her life.

A knock on her lab door pulled Angela out of her reverie, and she looked up, eyes slightly teary.

"Suit up, we have a-are you alright?"

A tall, well built woman hurried into the room, laying a soft hand on Angela's shoulder and looking at her with concern.

"Ah, Ana! Yes, sorry."

The doctor dashed a few stray tears from her eyes as she stood. "Just missing home."

The Egyptian woman wrapped her in a warm hug, which was quickly returned.

"Oh, kleiner Engel," she whispered comfortingly in heavily accented, mildly butchered German. "You will see them again soon, I'm sure."

Angela pulled back, smiling.

"You are the angel here, Ana. Thank you."

The older woman nodded.

"But of course. Now, we have lives to save, yes?"

"Yes."

Angela and Ana parted ways with a clasp of hands, the former hurrying to room, so distracted by mentally preparing herself for combat that she nearly bowled someone over.

"Woah there lil' missy!"

Jesse McCree caught her arm and kept her from getting to know the hall floor a little too intimately.

"Where you headed in such a rush?"

Angela righted herself, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Combat call, I need to get ready. Sorry, can't talk."

With that she was off again.

"Combat call, eh?"

The young man watched Angela go, appreciating the view casually, then turned his steps towards Jack's office.

"I don't have anything planned for tonight."


	5. Chapter 5

Due to wardrobe complications (bodysuits are difficult to get into), Angela was the last one on the aircraft.

" _Hm, let's see. Jack, obviously, Ana, Torb, Sophia, Rein, Cavan, and...Jesse? He's with Blackwatch, what's he doing here?"_

"Ziegler, you're late. Move it!"

Jack's tone was harsh, but Angela wasn't worried. Before missions he was always tense, worried about completing their objective and getting everyone home alive. The healer hurried to the empty seat between the commander and second lieutenant, across from Jesse.

She leaned to her right, whispering to Ana as the hatch closed and the aircraft took off, shaking slightly.

"What's Jesse doing here? Blackwatch members almost never accompany Overwatch missions."

The second in command shrugged, replying in the same low tone.

"Jack just said he asked to come along. Blackwatch is still small, you know, and they don't want to run any missions without Reyes along. As you know, he clearly is out of comission for a day at least, so he asked to come. We may need the help."

Angela was about to ask why, but Jack interrupted her before she could start. He stood, holding onto a loop of military canvas to keep his balance.

"Alright, listen up everyone. We're currently en route to Marrakech, Morocco. There's an anti-omnic group based out of there that normally wouldn't be our problem, but sources say they've recently hijacked a large shipment of experimental weapons from Tate Corporation."

"Ah, isn't dat ze corporation developing acid veponry? I read about it in ze news last veek," Torbjörn interjected in his heavy Swedish accent.

"It is," Jack confirmed, "And those prototypes are exactly the weapons that went missing. In the hands of this group they are deadly to human and omnic alike. Our goal is to recover every piece of the shipment and gather as much intelligence on the group as possible. It's a simple raid: in, out, nobody gets hurt. Please, _please,_ " he leveled a look at Jesse, "do not use lethal force unless absolutely necessary. I have enough paperwork as it is."

Jesse, hands behind his head and iconic hat tilted back, gave the commander an easy grin.

"Aye aye, capt'n."

Jack rolled his eyes, then passed out thick tablets throughout the group, swaying easily with the motion of the plane.

"Blueprints of the building we're headed to are in the file, along with what information we have on the group. Take this time to go over them and let me know if you have any questions. I'm point, Rein is next, Ana covers our rear."

With that, his briefing concluded and he sat back down, arm brushing against Angela's.

"I was a tablet short thanks to Cowboy McQuickdraw over there," he said, rolling his eyes goodnaturedly. "You alright if we share?"

"But of course!" Angela replied with a bright smile. Jack, already leaning in to look over the tablet, met her eyes and returned the expression.

(Being the commander he already knew all the information in the file, and didn't _actually_ need to review anything but hey, can't be too careful, right?~)

Delicate fingers flicking through the information, Angela studied the blueprint especially closely.

" _Let's see...Cavan will probably head there, with Ana taking that position up top, Torb will set up over there most likely—"_

As Angela was lost in thought she didn't notice as Jack's eyes slowly wandered up to study her face.

" _...holy shit, she's gorgeous. Sometimes I have a hard time believing she isn't an angel that somehow ended on earth."_

The light coming through the window behind Angela's head turned her hair into spun gold, highlighting her high cheekbones and casting shadows turning her lips full and deep red.

Of course, the doctor didn't notice any of this, engrossed by the file.

Jesse, on the other hand, did. Shiteating grin widening, a knowing spark entered his eyes.

" _This will be interesting."_

"Alright everyone, comms check," Ana announced as they neared their destination. Angela slipped her earpiece in, tapping it once.

"Channel one, check," she heard Jack's voice, both beside her and in her ear.

"Channel two, check!" Reinhardt's boisterous voice.

"Channel three, check," Ana said.

"Alright, we're good to go," Jack said. "Check your gear and prepare to disembark, we're three minutes out."

The sound of metal on metal filled the cabin as everyone went over their weapons. Angela stood, balancing herself carefully, legs to the edge of her chair. Drawing and checking her blaster she assured herself it was ready. She then drew her Caduceus Staff from beneath the seats and went over it, checking both healing and boost settings.

"Clear," she called, stepping forward slightly and wrapping a hand around one of the loops hanging from the roof of the aircraft. A moment later her wings spread, bathing everyone in a soft golden glow. She lowered them, content they were working as intended, and released the loop to sit back down. As she did so the aircraft lurched, sending the young woman flying forward...straight into Jesse's lap.

He caught her, grinning down flirtatiously.

"Why, Miss Mercy," he said, "I believe you just fell for me."

Light pink spread across Mercy's cheeks as she fumbled for words, mouth opening and closing, eyes helplessly fixed on his.

"Alright, that's enough," Jack growled, grabbing Angela's arm and hauling her to her feet. "Move out, and try not to get yourselves killed out there."

Everyone began exiting, Jesse giving her a wink before strolling out. Angela simply stood there for a moment, rubbing her arm where Jack had 'helped' her up.

"Try not to let it get to you," Ana said, resting a light hand on the doctor's back. "You need to be focused, it was a simple mistake."

Angela shook her head to clear it, then nodded.

"You're right. Sorry, just took me by surprise."

The two were the last off the aircraft, whose hatch closed directly after. Then, with a shimmer, it disappeared (thanks to state of the art cloaking technology).

"Form up and move out," Jack snapped over the comms.

"No need to be so keyed up capt'n," McCree drawled. "Simple mission, right?"

Jack whirled and marched up to him, glowering down at the young man, his red visor already activated casting a hellish glow.

"Listen here, kid. I don't know what Reyes lets you get away with in Blackwatch, but on my ops you call me Commander and you shut up and follow orders. Got it?"

"Yes sir."

While Jesse's words were affirmative, his easygoing attitude didn't disappear. Oddly, he glanced at Angela as Jack returned to point position. She shrugged it off, taking her place in the middle of the group.

Making their way to the rooftop door, Jack signaled for Reinhardt to get it open. The German obliged, producing a welding rod from within his armour and relieving the door of its lock. One by one they entered the warehouse gloom.


	6. Chapter 6

Spices. Turmeric, cinnamon, cumin, coriander, and a dozen others: their smells wafted over Angela like a cloud as she filed into the warehouse behind Jesse. The group were on a narrow catwalk, creeping along as best they could.

"Cavan, take Mercy and scout the bottom floor," Jack's voice ordered. Angela instantly stepped to the scout's side. A quiet _shnick_ sounded as he attached a light grappling hook to the catwalk. The cord deployed almost noiselessly, lowering him into the void above the main room.

"Cavan," Jack hissed, a moment later.

"Yes?"

"Are you...humming the Mission: Impossible theme?"

"...maybe."

Rolling her eyes, Angela lightly jumped to the rail of the catwalk, gave Ana a casual salute, and allowed herself to fall off the edge, plummeting down and drawing a sharp gasp from Jesse. She grinned, deploying Valkyrie's wings and slowing her headlong descent to the drifting of a feather.

"Never let it be said you don't have a flair for the dramatic," Ana said, a small smile evident in her voice.

Looking up, Angela restrained her own smile as she saw Jesse peering over the edge, his mouth a small 'o'.

Carefully guiding herself over to her partner, who had just touched foot to floor, she landed with a small flourish.

The young British man grinned and shook his head, drawing his dart gun.

"Did you need to give our cowboy companion a heart attack on his first mission with us?"

Angela giggled, drawing her own blaster. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

They moved in tandem; this was far from their first mission together.

"What do you see down there?"

"A whole lot of boxes and suspiciously empty chairs," Cavan radioed up. He wasn't the most descriptive person.

In reality, he and Angela were currently creeping through a miniature city of crates, boxes, baskets, and barrels, intermittently broken up with large, hefty black tables. Near the door to the warehouse, which was carefully chained and barred, everything looked normal: bright cones of spices, a rickety wooden desk with Lorum Ipsum paperwork scattered across it, a dozen thick rugs rolled up and leaning against boxes labeled 'tiles'.

It was the materials farther back, beyond a few rows of decorative goods and what seemed like the entire stock of Pier One Imports, that the Overwatch crew were interested in. And they found them-massive, black boxes as large as Angela was tall stamped with "Tait Corp." in bright white letters.

However, Cavan was right. The entire warehouse was quiet and empty. Dust motes rotated, undisturbed, in the sunlight streaming from small windows. The black desks held nothing of importance, indeed, the whole place seemed abandoned. Every step they took echoed around the walls, every shift of footing was like sandpaper, the noise amplified a dozen times. It was as if they were invading a secret lair-exactly as if.

"We're coming down," Ana announced, and with a half dozen slaps as ropes dropped to the floor, the rest of the crew slid down in a symphony of _hissssss_ -es.

"Well, this is fun," Jesse drawled. "Seems they went and made our jobs easy for us. Y'all Overwatchers sure got the cushy deal."

"Oh, shut the hell up and help me start movin' these boxes," Torbjorn ordered, passing out pairs of black, inch thick metal discs.

"Attach two to each side o' the crates and turn the outer ring til it clicks. Come on now, we don't have all day."

The team fanned out, locating each Tait Corp crate and doing as Torb ordered. Angela ended up next to McCree, who worked surprisingly quickly for his laid back demeanor.

"So what exactly are these thingamagigs for?" The cowboy asked, moving with Angela to the next crate.

"They're hyper strength magnets, in layman's terms," the inventor replied, overseeing operations. "When ya turn them after placing them on the crates it activates an industrial strength bonding 'super glue.' We'll then attach the lines we came down on to each of the points and hoist them up ta the roof."

"But how will we get them through the door?" Cavan chimed in, appearing on top of one of the boxes with cat-like stealth. "We practically had to grease ol' Rein up to get him through."

"That is where I come in," Sophia cut in, a rich Italian accent gracing her words. "Munitions and explosives, at you service, _si_."

McCree turns and looks the small woman up and down, a smile growing. " _Si_ indeed lil missy. You gonna blow us a door?"

"Indeed."

She turns and attaches the final disc, turning it with a final _click_. Jack glowers at the Blackwatch operative from afar.

"Alright, alright, enough chit chat!" Torbjorn waves his hands. "Get ta work!"

The small group moved with practiced efficiency, and before long there were only a few crates left on the warehouse floor.

"Cavan, we can take care of the rest of these. Find me something to take back to the UN so we can validate a full combat operation against these fuckers."

"Aye Commander!"

Cavan throws a quick salute and scurries off, weaving between towers of rugs and piles of wicker furniture.

 _Clunk_.

Everyone froze, Jack mid-attachment of a cable. You could practically see the ears of the group grow as they strained to listen.

"Was that…" Mercy whispered, half to herself.

"Ahlen...we have company," Ana replied, then raised her head, finding the commander. "Jack, I'm heading up."

Jack nodded, and the rest of them hurried to attach the cables to the second to last crate. Ana grabbed a free cable nearby, expertly wrapping it around her arm and giving it a single tug. Up on the catwalk, Torbjorn activated its recall, and the sniper went spinning up into the shadows, swinging slightly. A moment later her calm, confident voice reassured them over the coms.

"I have your back, keep going!"

Torbjorn had just settled the crate onto the catwalk and lowered the cables back for the last one when the door to the warehouse burst open with an ear shattering _CLANG!_


	7. Chapter 7

Sunlight flooded into the warehouse as the large front door opened. Five heavily armed men stood, silhouetted, in the doorway, blinking as their eyes adjusted to the darkness. Once they did, they weren't happy.

"Ce que le baiser, les intrus!" One yelled as he saw the Overwatch team. "Sauvegarde, aller chercher sauvegarde!"

These words sent two of the terrorists scrambling in opposite directions as the others advanced into the warehouse, guns raised.

 _Sssshick_.

One dropped, a large dart sticking out of his neck. Ana chuckled. "Go to sleep~"

"Sophia, where are we at with the exit strategy?" Jack snapped, signalling the rest of them to head up to the catwalk. Angela stayed on the ground, assisting with the final cables.

" _Così eccitato,_ I'm working on it!" The explosives expert replied, hastily connecting a few wires.

"Arrêtez-vous là, voleurs écume!" One of the very upset terrorists yelled, firing a few times.

Angela and Jack ducked, but he hadn't been shooting in their direction.

"No thanks, buddy!" Cavan yelled back, vaulting a stack of boxes labeled "Jouets en silicone" with a wide grin on his face. A small stack of papers fluttered from his hand.

He skidded to a stop as Jack and Angela finished with the last attachment.

"Hey guys, how ya doing?"

"Putain de chatte anglaise!"

This time they _were_ firing at Angela and Jack. Quickly, the three of them clambered onto the crate.

"Torbjorn, go, go, go!" Jack ordered, crouched on the top of the crate, pulse rifle aimed at the doorway. Outside, more men were running towards the building, waving weapons and yelling.

With a jolt, the crate quickly began to rise.

"Cover your ears!" Sophia ordered, and a moment later a muffled _boom_ shook the building, sending the mid-air crate swinging. Angela's eyes widened as the cables began to creak, and she saw the strain on the attachment points.

"Grab the cables!" She yelled to Cavan and Jack, who unquestioningly obeyed.

And not a moment too soon. Barely had she secured her grip before first one, then the other attachment points on her side of the crate gave out, leaving her feet kicking in mid air as she struggled to hold on to the still rising cable.

"Angela!"

McCree was leaning over the catwalk railing, eyes wide with worry. The doctor paid him no heed, instead finding the trailing end of the cable and securing it with her legs.

"Cowboy! Stop staring and start pulling your small weight!" Reinhardt ordered, already moving crates through the hole in the wall, loading up the dropship on the roof.

However bad Angela thought she had it, she knew Cavan and Jack were in an even worse position. The crate, now hanging by only two cables, was swinging and twisting wildly, threatening to throw them off despite their white knuckled grips. And, to make things even more difficult, angry Moroccans were flooding the warehouse floor. Before Angela could even call a warning, they opened fire.

"Sophia!"

Jack's voice was strained but powerful, heard even over the rat-a-tat-a-tat of bullets.

" _Sì, comandante!_ "

"The crate is about to drop! I need you to bomb it as soon as it hits the floor. We can't risk _any_ of these weapons falling into the hands of these guys!"

"Good as done, sir!"

Jack was right. The crate snapped off and dropped a moment later, sending the commander and Cavan spinning away from each other. Thankfully, without the extra weight, Torbjorn had the three of them up on the catwalk in a jiffy.

"We're almost done moving the crates, Jack!" the small man yelled to be heard over the gunfire.

Reinhardt's voice crackled over the com links.

"The enemy is here!" Then, slightly more distantly, "Come and face some German engineering, you tiny cowards!"

"He's out on the roof, they must have scaled the walls," Torbjorn explained. "We need him to move the crates, they're too heavy for the rest of us!"

Jack nodded, and Angela could see his mind racing behind his steely blue eyes.

Suddenly, the three were forced to crouch and hang on to the catwalk railing as explosions shook the building.

"Prototypes, distrutti~" Sophia's voice noted over the radio.

"McCree!" Jack bellowed, and the cowboy popped up by his elbow.

"How can I help?"

"You, Ana, Angela, and I are going to cover the rest of the team while they move the last few crates. Out onto the rooftop, go!"

They dashed out the ragged hole in the warehouse wall and into the glaring sunlight.

"Ah, my friends. Join me in glory!" Reinhardt bellowed cheerfully, his barrier glowing as it blocked the enemies bullets.

"Rein, move the last few crates, we've got this," Jack ordered, throwing down his biotic field.

"As you command!"

Reinhardt collapsed the barrier and grabbed the next crate that Torbjorn, Cavan, and Sophia had pushed to the hole.

"Tactical Visor, activated," Jack called out, and Angela quickly dodged behind some rubble, linking her damage boost to his weapon. She watched as he quickly eliminated enemy after enemy, the carnage turning her stomach.

"Woah there," Jesse declared, flashbanging a trio of AK-toting men and incapacitating them each with shots to the kneecaps and wrists. "No need to be in such a rush."

"This is the last crate!" Reinhardt informed them as he stomped by, armor shaking the ground slightly with each step.

"Everyone, fall back into the ship," Jack ordered. They began to withdraw, still shooting until the door sealed in front of them with a _hisss_ , cutting off the sounds of battle and leaving their ears ringing.

"Ach lieben...is everyone alright?" Angela asked, taking a deep breath and wincing as pain shot through her side. Murmurs of assent scattered through the group, and she fell into the nearest seat, leaning her head back and tightly closing her eyes as she pressed a hand to her side.

"Angela, you're hurt," Jack spoke softly, slipping into the seat beside her, face creased with worry. Smears of dirt and flecks of blood adorned his skin, as it did all of them.

"Nothing to worry about, commander," she assured him with a smile that twisted in pain as she tried to move. "Just a graze, it's already healing."

Jack shook his head, gently taking ahold of the hand she had pressed to the gash in her armor and pulling it aside. Crimson stained the area around the breach, and painted her palm in abstract patterns. The commander pulled air through his teeth in a sympathetic hiss.

"How did this happen? I tried so hard to keep you safe."

The doctor waved her free hand slightly.

"A stray bullet on a battlefield, it's of no use worrying over." Raising her voice, she addressed the rest of them. "Once we return to base, I expect to see each and every one of you in medbay for debriefing. Absolutely no exceptions."

The stern final phrase was directed at Jack, who was known to disappear into his office directly after a mission and not emerge for days. He grinned sheepishly.

"Yes m'am."


	8. Chapter 8

Despite leaps, bounds, and strides made in transportation technology, the flight back to Japan was still several hours. Around thirty minutes in Angela felt a burning itching in her side, and stood with a low groan. In the twilight of the ship, practically everyone was asleep in their seats. Save Cavan, who had stretched out on the floor and borrowed McCree's hat to set over his eyes. Soft snoring could be heard coming from beneath it.

To distract herself from the pain of her skin stitching together beneath her suit, healing the bullet graze, she sat down at the far end of the dropship and pulled out her staff. During the battle it had been splattered with a sticky mixture of blood and dust, maring its pristine white surface. Sighing deeply, she pulled her sleeve up to cover the base of her palm and began attempting to wipe away the mess.

"Here."

Jack's voice was low and quiet, to avoid waking the others. He held out a few grey mechanic's rags that had been stashed in the ship.

"Ah, thank you," Angela replied quietly, giving him a bright smile. Groaning, the commander lowered himself to the floor to sit beside her.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked, fully allowing his worry and concern to show. She gave him a tired smile and a nod.

"Already almost healed. I'll just need my armour repaired once we get back, that's all."

"Good. I was worried about you."

Jack raised a hand, almost wrapping it around her shoulders, but stopped himself short. After a brief hesitation, he patted her back lightly and stood again.

"See you when we get back to base."

"See you."

Angela, oblivious, went back to cleaning her staff. Unobserved for the moment, Jack simply watched her.

Legs tucked around to the side, dirt and blood streaking her pale skin, hair frizzy, and halo slightly out of place, she still managed to be the most put together and beautiful woman he knew.

" _Careful, Morrison,"_ he thought to himself. " _Don't be selfish."_

He returned to his seat and napped for a fitful few hours.

The group landed back in Japan safely. Bleary-eyed and yawning, they disembarked, Jack running a full roll call and half hearted equipment check. Angela then herded them all into medbay, taking no excuses or pleading off for sleep. A few other doctors were on shift, and they hurried to assist her while she quickly got changed and grabbed her checklist. Walking out of the attached changing room, she surveyed the room.

Sophia flipped her silky black hair, flirting with her doctor while he rolled his eyes and attempted to complete his checklist as quickly as possible. Once he did, Cavan strolled up, also flirting and batting his eyes before breaking into a wide grin.

Ana and Rein chatted while Torbjorn was checked, the old crusader getting a wry smile and blush out of the sniper with a few quiet words.

Assured that the others were being checked, Angela turned to her own patients. Jack and Jesse stood before her, the latter with a barely restrained grin.

"Right, who first?" She asked, glancing down at her tablet. After no one spoke, she nodded at Jesse.

"Come on, cowboy. Let's get you released and back to your unit."

He stepped forward, a slight swagger in his movement.

"Feel free to take your time, doc. I sure don't mind you inspecting me," he said with a wink. Behind him Jack narrowed his eyes, making a mental note to put the young man through an appropriate workplace relations course.

However, Jesse was rewarded with a small quirk of Angela's lips, and for him, that was enough. So, for the rest of the quick medical clearing, he stood quietly, despite some great jokes coming to mind when she told him to roll up his sleeves so she could inspect a graze. After a disinfectant and bandage was applied she shooed him away, signing off on his inspection on her touchscreen.

"Right, commander," she said, looking up. "Sorry about the wait."

The other doctors had cleared out with the last of the team, tired 'goodnight's exchanged between the Overwatch agents.

"No problem," he replied, sitting himself on the freestanding exam table. "Always a pleasure to see you work."

A light pink lit her cheeks as Angela ducked her head to read the checklist she had memorized.

"Did you sustain any injury during this mission?"

"No."

"Do you have any pain or discomfort?"

"Only a headache."

She stepped forward, laying the back of her hand on his forehead, her cool skin brushing against his.

"Hmm, you don't feel warmer than usual. Although you do tend to run hot thanks to the serums. Would you like a light pain pill?"

"No, I'll be alright."

"Are there any physical or psychological issues you would like to bring to my attention at this time?"

Jack hesitated for a moment, considering, then shook his head.

"Nah, doc. I'm fine."

She nodded, digitally signing his sheet, then looked up.

"You're cleared then, Jack. Go get some sleep, alright? Doctor's orders."

He stood, stretching with a groan. His shirt, which had become untucked during the ride home, rode up slightly. Angela caught herself looking and quickly averted her eyes. However, Jack had also caught her looking. He opened his mouth, a comment coming to mind as he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, but quickly pulled back before she noticed.

"Alright then. I'll see you tomorrow, Angela."

She nodded, stifling a yawn. "Goodnight."

He gathered his jacket and slowly exited the room, body weighed with physical and mental exhaustion. Angela felt her eyelids drooping as she stood in the middle of the room, but shook her head, forcing herself to wake up a little.

" _I need to check on Genji,"_ she thought, and made her way to his room. As she exited the examination room the lights shut off. At nearly 3am all the lights were dimmed, and the hallways were abandoned. Her dragging steps sounded loud, each step against the linoleum echoing slightly.

Reaching Genji's room she paused, looking through the glass door. He was awake, propped up on pillows, various IVs and tubes snaking out of him and hooking him up to a half dozen machines. In his lap was a tablet, which he spoke to occasionally.

Before she fell asleep leaning against the door, Angela straightened and entered the room. The injured man looked up as she did so, panic lighting his eyes for a moment. Once he saw it was her, though, he released a breath and acknowledged her with a slight nod.

"Doctor Zieglar," he greeted, looking back down at his tablet.

"Genji," she replied. "How are you?"

His expression hardened.

"I'm fine," he said, tone terse and words clipped.

"What are you reading?"

"One of the nurses gave me this tablet with voice control. He said I should keep my mind busy."

"A good idea. Anything interesting?"

"Just the news. I've been reading up on your organization...Overwatch. Can't find much of substance though, all the news would have people believing you're all a group of bright eyed heroes, here to save the day."

"Well, some may say that's a partially apt description."

He scoffed.

"Please. Nothing is that innocent."

Unspoken was the " _I would know."_ Angela decided to not pursue that at this time.

"Why are you here?" he asked before she could think of something to say.

"What do you mean?" she replied, thrown off by his change in conversation.

"Doctor Angela Zieglar," he read from the tablet. "Called by some a Guardian Angel. Unmatched in scientific and medical engineering advances. Staunch advocate for peace, and outspoken pacifist." He winced as he turned to look at her, eyes piercing and almost accusatory.

"Overwatch is an organization born of war. It runs combat missions regularly. Overwatch is responsible for deaths. Why are you here, doctor? Any organization in the world would welcome you with open arms, and there's a few that would probably pay you better too, I'd bet."

She considered for a moment.

"Overwatch has a universal reach. It answers only to the UN, and even then, only loosely. We can go anywhere, help anyone, and leverage the expertise of the cutting edge scientists in every first world country. I have saved more lives since joining Overwatch than I had in my entire life up until recruitment.

"Plus, Overwatch is extremely generous with its medical engineering and R&D budget. I can do so much, help so many people with their help. I couldn't imagine being anywhere else."

He studied her, unabashedly running his eyes over her face before holding her gaze for a few seconds. She met his stare openly, proud of her choice, even if she questioned it herself sometimes.

"Very well. Overwatch is a good organization, then?"

"I believe so. Every place has its darker sides, but what we do here steers the world towards peace and prosperity."

"Interesting. Thank you for speaking to me, Doctor Zieglar. You look tired, though. You should go rest." He turned back to his tablet.

She raised an eyebrow, wondering what the reasoning behind his intense questioning was.

"Is there anything I can get you before I leave?"

He shook his head.

"I'm quite comfortable, thank you."

"Very well. Sleep well, Genji."

"You as well, doctor."

She left, closing the door softly behind her. As she did, Genji spoke to the tablet.

"Open conversation with Commander Morrison."

The chat application opened, displaying the conversation. It was short and to the point. The first message was from Jack, outlining what Angela had proposed for Genji's cybernetic body, and relaying that he could not approve the design for anyone outside of Overwatch. Genji's reply had been short: 'I'll think about it.'

He now narrated another message.

"To: Commander Morrison. I will join Overwatch if Doctor Zieglar can fix me as you said she can."

A moment later a reply popped up.

"Glad to have you on board, Shimada. I'll send the paperwork through tonight."

Genji tilted his head back against the pillows, looking at the ceiling.

" _With this...I'll be able to face Hanzo once again. And I won't lose this time."_


	9. Chapter 9

Jack Morrison was having a quiet morning, for once. Sipping his coffee from a cheap '#1 Commander' mug he had received as a gag gift, he meandered from the canteen to his office, greeting Amelie with a smile and raise of his mug. She replied with a smile and a look that told him there was something waiting for him. He asked with an arch of one eyebrow.

"Doctor Zieglar is waiting in your office, Commander."

Good mood undampened, Jack thanked her and continued into his office.

"Angela! You're up early," he greeted as he rounded to sit behind his desk.

"You approved the designs!"

Angela was clutching the paperwork to her chest, blue eyes shining bright. She seemed unable to stop smiling.

Jack's morning was instantly ten times better.

"Well, Genji and I had a chat, and he agreed to work for us. That way you'll be able to monitor his cybernetic enhancements and keep up with maintenance. Also it will let me get approval for whatever funding you need from higher up."

He couldn't keep a smile off his face either.

"Jack," Angela leaned forward, utterly sincere. "Thank you so much. We will make his life so much better with this. He'll be able to do everything a normal man can do."

She stood, set down the papers, and circled the desk, leaning to give him a hug as he sat in his chair. For a moment he was surprised, unsure what to do, then wrapped his arms around her in return. Her form seemed so slight in his arms, all he wanted to do was draw her close and keep her safe. The second passed and she pulled away, and he dropped his arms to the armrests of his chair. She smiled down at him, her fringe flopped over her face a bit.

"Thank you, again," she said, then turned, retrieved the paperwork, and hurried out the door. It looked to him as if she were walking on air.

He sat back, basking in the light she seemingly left behind. A trace of her perfume lingered in the air. A small smile danced around his lips.

" _Oh boy, Morrison. You have got it bad."_

Somehow, the thought didn't bother him. His office door opened, and one look at Amelie's expression popped his bubble. He sat up, his question on his face.

 _What happened?_

His secretary just shook her head, lips pressed together in a hard line. Leaving his coffee on his desk, he stood and followed her out of the room.

Amelie's heels clicked ominously on the floor, her quick pace clearing an easy path through the early morning traffic. Recruits on their way to various training classes, agents leaving for or arriving from mission, administrative staff keeping everything running smoothly, they all made way for the Commander and his fearsome assistant.

She made a turn into quieter quarters, and Jack began to narrow down the list of places she could be taking him. These hallways were less populated, no one came here unless they needed to. It was where Blackwatch agents were housed and trained. They had been pushed off into an older wing of the base, furthest away from the main operations. No one wanted to acknowledge them or what they did, but Jack knew they were a necessary dark side to Overwatch's bright coin.

The Blackwatch agents knew exactly what they were: rejects. Too violent, too unethical, too outside the norm to be in the promotion videos and missions for Overwatch. They were needed but not wanted, and every one of them harbored some sort of resentment towards the main organization. None more so than their leader, Gabriel Reyes. He was trusted with almost complete autonomy in the shadow organization, and with that thought Jack came to the realization. It was the only reason he would be summoned to interfere with Blackwatch.

Reyes had fucked up.

Amelie indicated a door, unmarked, but Jack knew it was one of the training gyms for the senior agents. Nodding his thanks to his assistant, he pushed the door open.

"-if anyone else wants to come at me, they can feel free to! I've got all day, motherfuckers!" Reyes yelled.

He stood in the center of a worn boxing ring, shirtless, arms outstretched on either side. Sweat rolled down his forehead, beading on his chest, but he had a dark smirk on his face. Behind him a man lay, unconscious, with two other agents bent over him, attempting to tend to his injuries. As Jack made his way into the room Reyes turned, arms dropping to swing by his sides.

"Jack, what are you doing here?" he asked, surprised.

"What-What am _I_ doing here?" Jack heaved a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he looked around at the other Blackwatch agents. A few were glowering at the man in the middle of the ring, but most looked scared straight. "Gabe, what the fuck are you doing here?"

Gabriel's face hardened as he twisted into a scowl.

"I'm running my unit, Morrison. I suggest you go back and do the same."

His words were short, clipped, and barely containing the anger that burned behind his dark eyes. Jack met his glare with a deadly look of his own.

"I need to speak to you, outside."

When Gabe didn't move right away he raised his voice.

"Now!"

If looks could kill, Jack would be dead, but the Blackwatch commander slowly exited the ring, discarding his gloves and stalking towards the door. He brushed past Jack with a hard shoulder check that the blond man was braced for.

"I'll call a medic for your man," he informed the Blackwatch agents in a softer voice, then let the door swing shut.

Gabriel stood beside him, arms crossed across his broad chest, but for the moment, Jack ignored him. He tapped a few buttons on his phone, activating the first speed dial programed in.

Bright natural light streamed into Angela's spacious office, illuminating the doctor as she perched on a stool in front of her drafting table. Seperate from her normal desk, she used the drafting table to plan and edit large scale designs, like she was making for Genji. Humming tunelessly, she measured and sketched, a small smile still on her lips.

Beside her, her phone buzzed loudly, breaking into her thoughts. Glancing over, she saw Jack's number, and picked up quickly, pinning the phone between ear and shoulder while she checked the proportions on a piece of ventilation in the mask she was planning.

"Jack! How can I help?" she greeted cheerily.

"Angela. I need you, Blackwatch quarters. Someone has been injured in a….boxing training match." He hesitated, voice strained. "We need it handled, quietly."

The doctor was already standing, gathering her things.

"I'm on my way."


	10. Chapter 10

When Angela arrived at the Blackwatch quarters the first thing she saw was Gabriel and Jack flanking the hallway, tension crackling between them. Reyes was shirtless, hands bound for boxing. She dragged her eyes away from him before she stared where she shouldn't. Although she didn't have any particularly strong feelings towards her superiors, she could definitely appreciate a well toned body. Both Jack and Gabriel had been unknowing recipients of her appreciative glances at various times.

As she walked up, lab coat flapping behind her slightly, the two men stood up straighter, then exchanged glares. She ignored them.

"Where is my patient?"

Gabriel jerked his head towards the door, and she brushed past them, intent on treating whatever injuries lay before her.

Various Blackwatch agents were scattered around the worn bleachers, gathered in small groups. As she entered all conversation died, every eye on her.

Angela kept her gaze forward, all the attention making her want to get this job over with as quickly as possible. She ducked and slipped between the ropes to enter the boxing ring, ignoring a quiet whistle from behind her, and made her way to the prone figure in the center.

"Jesse?"

Her mouth opened slightly, and she quickly dropped to her knees and opened the medical kit she had brought with her.

"H...hey doc," he mumbled, giving her a half smile. Despite his brave front, his eyes were unfocused and his lips crusted with blood.

"Jesus, Jesse…" she muttered, shining a penlight in his eyes to test pupil dilation. "What happened to you?"

He opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted with a cough. Fresh blood spattered his lips and chin.

"Boss 'n I juss had a disagreement 's all."

"Reyes did this?"

Her voice was low and deadly serious.

"He didn' mean to, doc. Juss got a lil rough. I wasn't on my game."

Angela's jaw clenched.

" _When I get my hands on that man...he's out of control. But: Jesse first."_

She retrieved a pack of santitized pads.

"This will sting," she warned, before swiping it across McCree's bottom lip. He hissed loudly, neck tensing as he forced himself to stay still.

With some of the blood cleaned away, she was able to see the deep split in his lip.

Gloves and a small dish of yellow, lightly glowing material were next out of the kit. Snapping on the gloves, she unscrewed the lid to the dish and dabbed one finger in the material. It seemed to be formed of thousands of tiny gold balls suspended in a gel-like substance. A few of the balls and a drop of the gel clung to her finger, and she gently swept it across Jesse's lip, as soft as she could.

"That will take care of that," she spoke to herself, wiping her finger on a piece of gauze. "Now, Jesse, can you tell me what day it is?"

"Course, it's Wednesday," he replied, lisping slightly due to his swollen lip. "Whadya juss put on me?"

"A new nanobot gel I'm working on," she replied. "They should have you patched up in a matter of hours. What hurts?"

He gave her a wry smile. "Besides everything? Left shoulder...I think the sonova bitch got dislocated-"

As he spoke she laid hands on his arm, feeling out the injury, and before his sentence was complete she took a deep breath and applied pressure, popping the shoulder back into place.

"-FUCK. God, Angela, couldn't you give a man a warning?" He laughed slightly, relief evident as the pain from his shoulder dropped to a low ache.

"Better without, you know that."

She gave him a small smile.

"I want you to come with me to medbay for a CT scan and MRI, just to make sure you're alright. Can you walk?"

Grunting with the effort, Jesse sat up, wavering only slightly.

"Yeah, I think I'm alright. Might have to let me lean on you a bit though," he commented with a wink.

"Well, that comment lets me know you're already doing better," she said with a laugh, removing her gloves and packing her supplies away. "Come on, cowboy."

She stood and offered him a hand up. He kept his recently dislocated arm tucked close to his body, careful not to knock it as he took her hand.

"We'll get you a sling and ice for that as well," she noted, then slipped out of the boxing ring, holding the ropes open for McCree to follow. The two of them exited, leaving the rest of the Blackwatch agents to their gossip.

"- we're stronger than any of those agents, you could kill someone and not even notice."

Angela opened the door, only catching the tail end of Jack's lecture, which was wearing Gabriel thin, she was sure. The commander cut himself off as she led Jesse out of the room.

"McCree?"

Jack had clearly not noticed that the cowboy was the injured party in the situation.

"None other," he drawled, smile in place. Gabriel glowered silently.

"You go ahead to medbay," Angela told Jesse, one hand on his good shoulder. "I already sent ahead orders for the scans. I'll be along shortly."

"Yes m'am."

Jesse sauntered off as well as he could, stiff pain evident in every step. Once he rounded the corner out of sight, Angela leveled an icy glare at Reyes.

"You want to explain to me why you're destroying your own _gottverdammt_ agents?"

Gabriel met her stare, his own hard and defensive.

"He stepped out of line."

"Enough to land himself in medbay?" she hissed.

"Apparently."

She studied him another moment, then straightened, running a hand over her face.

"Ich bin nicht betrunken genug für diese scheisse..." she muttered under her breath.

While Gabriel and Jack may not be fluent in German, they caught the gist.

"Angela," Jack started, voice gentle. "Let me talk to you a moment."

She nodded, and he pulled her a little ways away. Gabriel tensed as they passed, eyes fixed ahead, refusing to look at either of them.

"He's losing it," Jack said, voice quiet to hopefully stay out of earshot.

"Nein, no," Angela sighed deeply. "He just needs someone to be there for him. Anger management and therapy could do him a world of good."

"We can't. Anyone else finds out about this, finds out about Blackwatch, they could ruin Overwatch. None of your therapists have that kind of clearance, for good reason."

"I do."

"What?"

"I do," Angela repeated. "I'm a licensed therapist. I'm experienced in putting personal feelings aside to practice my career. And I have the clearance."

"Are...are you sure Ang? I don't even know if he would talk to you…"

"I would."

Gabriel's deep voice cut in. The other two snapped to look over, almost guilty, to see he was exactly where they had left him.

Gabe pushed himself off the wall, rolling his shoulders once and raising an arm to point at his ears.

"Super soldier, remember? I got the same stuff they gave wonder boy here."

He stood beside them, looking between the two.

"Well?"

Jack and Angela exchanged a look.

"I suppose it's decided then," she said. "I'll see you in my office bright and early tomorrow morning, Commander Reyes."

A/N: Aaaand we're caught up! Enjoy the chapters, sorry I totally died for a while :) Please let me know what you think! Comments feed my insecure writer soul 3


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